


Suitable

by redscudery



Series: Sweet Kisses and Locked Boxes (or, Greg, Molly, and a plethora of positions) [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Awesome Molly, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Greg puts his tongue to good use, Implied Johnlock, Molly is devious, Semi-Public Sex, Shopping, Silver Fox Lestrade, Suit Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:39:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redscudery/pseuds/redscudery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper really had been intending to go dress shopping. It's just that, when Greg Lestrade asks her to help him choose a suit, she can't resist him, or he her.</p><p>What else are those benches in the dressing room for, anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suitable

**Author's Note:**

> For anneincolor, with whom I was discussing shopping.

Molly Hooper really had been on her way to the dresses that day. It was only when saw a familiar silver-gray head in the men’s department that she’d stopped, paused, and doubled back, determination in her eye. 

“Greg!” she said, surprised. At least, she hoped she sounded surprised. 

“Molly!” He turned towards her. He was, Molly thought, devastating, but in a way that was solid as bedrock. Not the only thing that was solid, hmmm? She tore her eyes away from his chest and shoulders and looked him in the eye.

“What are you doing here? Shopping?” Now that was silly, she thought to herself. But Greg just smiled again. He seemed happy to see her, which was a good sign.

“Got to get something for John and Sherlock’s wedding. Apparently my suit is inadequate.”

“Sherlock is so tactful. He told me no canary yellow this time. ‘Aside from the unfortunate associations, Molly, it will clash terribly with the decorations’” she mimicked. “He’s lost his mind. I mean, he’s not as bad as, er, the last time, but still bad. But you know, any excuse to get a new dress is a good one.”

“You look nice in that.” There was definitely a flicker of interest there.

“This!” She gestured to her black skirt and light green sweater in mock despair, “They’re just work clothes, Greg.”

“Look, Molly, d’you have a minute? I’ve got it narrowed down to two, I think, but maybe you could help me?”

“Sure, of course.” 

“It’s the one down the far end, sorry,” Greg gestured. “They were all full when I came in.” He stepped back to let her go first, and placed his hand on the small of her back as she walked by. Molly’s breath stopped for a moment at the unexpected contact, and she walked the rest of the way down the hallway, very conscious of his body moving behind her. 

“So what do you think?” Now his voice was close behind her as well; if he took one more step towards her, they’d be touching. She shivered a bit, forcing herself to focus on the suits. The first one was conservatively cut, blue with a subtle check. The second looked sleeker, she thought, and the warm brown would look gorgeous with his skin and eyes. 

“Well, you know, they’re both, they’re both lovely.” He’d moved just a shade closer. “I think I’d need to see them on, you know.” 

“’Course. Which one first?” 

“The brown.” 

“Right.” He reached past her to grab the suit, but, not quite reaching it, leaned in to her and stumbled. 

“Careful!” she exclaimed, not really meaning it. He’d had to put his hand on her back again, and she was letting herself relax into it, enjoying the heat of his hand seeping through her cardigan and his chest against her shoulder. He pulled away, not quickly, and went into the dressing room. As he closed the door, he gave her a mischievous grin, one that nearly made her grab the front of his shirt then and there. 

“Won’t be long,” he said, and she heard the lock click. She exhaled abruptly; without looking in the mirror she knew her cheeks were flushed. 

She was trying to cool them with her hands when she heard the clink of his belt being unbuckled, followed by the zip being undone. The flush came back, redoubled. Don’t look, she told herself. Just don’t.

But she did, just in time to see his trousers pool around his feet. She turned away. She should leave, she thought, if she couldn’t control herself, but she was riveted, watching him pull the trousers on, listening for the rustle of cloth, the zipper, the snap.

She knew he must be nearly ready to come out when she heard him shrug into the jacket, but she still jumped at the click of the bolt. The door swung open. 

“So?” He stood there, arms to the sides. “Too naff? Too grandfatherly?”

“Uh, no. No. Not at all. No, it’s…you’re…the suit is very nice.” Get a hold of yourself, Molly. She stepped closer. 

“I mean, it suits you. The color is perfect, and the cut emphasizes your…” What to say now? “Shoulders. It emphasizes your shoulders.”

“Does it?” His voice had lowered a bit, and she felt the rumble at the base of her spine. 

“It does.” She reached out and touched the shoulder seam. Another half-step and their bodies would be touching. 

“Thank you, Molly.” He was looking at her now, intent. He raised his hand as if to touch her, and she stilled, waiting. 

“You’re so lovely,” he said, but his hand didn’t make contact. 

“Greg,” half a whisper. 

He stepped back, suddenly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s just that you.. That I…” 

“Greg, you’re an idiot sometimes. You really are.” And she closed the gap between them, brushing his chest with her breasts. 

“Well, that is what nearly everyone tells me.” His breath was warm and smelled like cinnamon gum.

“I did say ‘sometimes’.” 

“Oh good. You tell me if this is idiotic, then.” His hand came up and cupped her face, and his lips met hers, soft and assured. The light touch was incredibly erotic, and Molly swayed into him, pushing her mouth to his, demanding that he open his lips and take her in. He did, first biting her lower lip gently, then sliding his tongue along hers, and their mouths opened into a full, wet kiss. She reached up, around his neck, and slid one hand up his nape into his thick silver hair, pulling him closer in. Their bodies were pressed together now; she could feel his erection against her thigh and she arched into it, suddenly uncaring about place, or time, or propriety. 

He broke the kiss briefly, and, wrapping his arms around her, pulled her gently into the change room. 

“Come here.” Molly’s knees weakened at his tone. He’d shed his uncertainty, now, and taken control, and if there was anything she liked (besides the sound of belt buckles unbuckling, apparently), it was firmness of all sorts. She was backed against the wall of the changing room now, and Lestrade was kissing her again, the pressure of his warm, solid body delicious against hers. 

“Do you want this?” He was reaching for her buttons, the heels of his hands skimming her breasts. 

“You know I do.” Every time his large fingers brushed her skin, a wave of heat and wetness rushed between her legs. 

As he worked his way down her buttons, he ran his tongue along her neck, then to her collarbones, nipping a little at her throat. When the cardigan was open, he reached in at her waist, pushing back the sweater and circling her waist. She brought her hands back up to touch him, caressing his shoulders, his hair, his nape, and he kissed her again. His erection pressed right up between her legs, and she opened them so he could get closer. He was harder than ever, and as they rocked together, she had to think consciously about not making noise. 

His hands came up to her breasts and she sighed into his mouth. He didn’t worry about undoing her bra, just reached in and scooped them out, running his thumbs over her nipples, already hard with excitement and the cool air of the store. Bending, he dipped his mouth to them, and though she wanted to protest the loss of his body against hers, the wet warmth of his lips and tongue, and the light skittering of his fingers along her ribcage distracted her. 

When one of his hands dropped to her thigh, his thumb hooked ever-so-slightly under the hem of her skirt, her head fell back against the wall, her mouth open. Lestrade, looking up at her with his eyes wide, licked his lips and ran both hands up her thighs. He stopped just short of her sex, instead trailing his thumbs along the seams of her panties. 

“Greg.” She knew she should stay quiet, that they could be caught any second, but if he stopped, she would fly into a thousand tiny pieces.

“Oh, I know, he said, looking up at her, the corner of his mouth crooked into a grin, “I know.” Swiftly, he moved his hands to her hips, tugging her panties down. Molly wriggled just so, and then lifted one foot to allow for greater access. 

He bent forward and Molly could feel his breath on her wet sex. She arched towards him again, and he brought one finger up to touch her clitoris. The light touch was maddening, and she opened her mouth in protest.

“More, right? Here you go.” His voice was a rough whisper now, and he slid his finger inside her. She settled on to him with a sigh, and as she did, he began to touch her with his tongue, long broad strokes that brought her to the very edge of orgasm but not over. Then, as she wriggled her hips in frustration- more, she wanted more pressure- he sped up, flicking his tongue over her and moving his finger inside her until she fell off the edge of the earth, silent except for short, panting breaths.

Lestrade leaned his head against her hip for a moment, finger still gently moving in and out, other hand curled around her knee. Molly caressed his head, then grasped the collar of his shirt in her hand and pulled

“Come here.” 

She pulled him towards her and kissed his mouth, tasting herself on his lips. Her other hand reached to his waist, sliding in under his shirt and caressing the skin of his stomach and back. He groaned into her mouth and pressed against her; she deliberately opened her legs and rubbed against him.

“Do that again and I’ll have to buy this suit.” Molly grinned against him, enjoying the roughness in his voice, before using her other hand to pop the button. She grasped the zip firmly and lowered it, shivering with pleasure at the sound. 

When she put her hand inside the trousers, cupping his erection through his pants, he gasped and bucked into her palm.

“Your turn,” she said, using her weight to push him against the other wall and sinking to her knees. Lestrade looked at her, open-mouthed. His pupils were dilated and his hair was standing on end; she wished she could see all of him, but just his cock would have to do. 

She pressed her face along the length and thickness of it under the cotton of his pants, then pulled it out, carefully. Lestrade gasped when she did, and when she wrapped her hand around it, he moaned.

“Shh.” She looked up at him, eyebrow arched. Let’s see how he likes that, then.

And this. She put her mouth around him, and he froze, tense under the effort of silence. Oh, he would be noisy under proper circumstances. Or improper circumstances. The thought made her shiver again.

She slid her tongue around the plump head, tasting saltiness, then sucked, moving her hand slowly at the base of the shaft. She felt him starting to move his hips, pushing against her hand, filling her mouth. She pinned him back a bit, taking a few seconds to do it at her own speed. He was tense against her, clearly getting close; she took her mouth away for a moment and looked up at him, smiling.

“God, you are…” Before he could finish that thought, she took him back into her mouth, flicking her tongue underneath the glans and stroking him firmly. She let him build a rhythm, rocking her head and hand with his movement until she felt his balls tighten and his thighs tense even further.

He came on a harsh outrush of breath, eyes closed, shoulders bowed. Molly swallowed, almost overcome herself with the rush of doing this here, now. 

When his eyes opened, she stood up and kissed him. Their mouths blended together, salt and sweet. He smiled at her, stroked her back.

“Thank you.”

She smiled back. 

 

It was only when they were outside, hand-in-hand and walking towards her flat, that she realized her panties were still on the dressing-room floor.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr: redscudery.tumblr.com for ficlets, teasers, and other stuff.


End file.
